Where your Loyalty Lies
by RuinsofGallifrey
Summary: When Kiaras dad died,things changed.Her mother beats her,her uncle is the only one who can help her,and her boyfriend is too protective.When Kiara is attacked by a werewolf,she must confront the feud between shape shifters and the werewolves. First story, please read and review. All constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Trust me, story is alot better than the summary!
1. When you standing in the wake

**Author Note: ****This is my FIRST novel and I would really love reviews! I think this is a good novel, but I haven't had many people actually review it. So in fact, I have no idea if people will actually like it. That's why I need reviews! I will try to keep adding chapters, about 1 or 2 every couple of days. But I also have school and work, so I might get a little behind sometime. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

Where Your Loyalty Lies- Chapter 1

I didn't know he was following me. Not until he attacked.

I was late for a practice with Jameson, my mother's fault of course. She had come home drunk again and i had to clean her up before i could leave. All the while she was screaming at me to get out of her life. That she hoped i would get killed one day. Although, she didn't know that a world champion wrestler would have a tough time taking me down. Not to sound full of myself, but that's the truth. She didn't know a thing about it.

And that's how it had to stay. It was my father's choice to tell her about us. He chose not to. He wanted to wait a while; see if anything would get easier. He passed the secret onto me though, since i was born with the ability to shift, even though i was a half-blood.

But then he died, right before he could tell my mother anything. Jameson, his brother, has taken care of us since then. He taught me to hunt and fight, but my mother refused help. She spiraled down into a depressing drunken state. Her favourite thing to do nowadays besides drink was to beat on me. And i had to sit there and take it, never fighting back. Just because she couldn't know the damn secret.

I had wanted to meet up with Derek on the way to practice, but i was running too late. That disturbed me, even more than the stillness of the air or the darkness of the night. But just because he wasn't there, I felt vulnerable.

I passed his house without stopping, the feeling of unease growing stronger with every step. I cut through the deserted playground, children long gone and made a beeline for the forest. Jameson's house was still about 3 miles out.

The feeling escalated. I could tell that someone was watching me. I stopped to look around. Spruce trees, grey stone path, frost bitten grass. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Movement to me right. I whirled around and caught a blow to my shoulder. Pain flared, hot a stabbing. I sucked in a shocked breath and blocked the next blow with my arm. I jumped backwards to catch a look at my attacker. A young man, no older than 20, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans. He had a crowbar in his hand. He turned towards me just as I jumped a second time. I landed on his back, shoving my fist into his throat. There was a crack and blood bubbled out of his mouth. He didn't even pause.

He threw me down, flipping me over his head and slamming me into the ground. He growled as I hit the grass. Actually growled. A deep, guttural sound blocked partly by the blood in his mouth. It was then I knew he wasn't human.

His eyes glowed an eerie yellow and his lips curled up into a snarl. He looked more canine then anything. One word popped into my head-werewolf.

I lay on my back as he slammed the crowbar into my chest. I heard, rather than felt, my ribs crack. The next hit connected with my skull. Blood blossomed above my right eye and ran down my face as hot, thick rivers of red. Spots appeared and blurred my vision.

Waiting for the final blow, sprawled in a pool of my own blood, and i felt as if i was falling. The edge of my vision was darkening, as if i were looking down a well. I was gasping in short pants, every breath was painful.

A nervous giggle slid through my teeth and i was rewarded with a burning sensation in my lungs. If i had listened to my gut, if Luke had been here, this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't be lying here broken and dying in the grass.

I closed my eyes for what i thought would be the final time.


	2. of devestation

It wasn't. The killer blow never came. Instead, I could hear my attacker's footsteps retreating, running in the opposite direction. He was leaving me here to die. To bleed to death slowly and painfully. I laid there waiting.

My thoughts drifted to my mother, probably asleep now, passed out drunk. No idea I lay dying in the dark, soon to be free of her hatred, her revulsion. I thought of my uncle, Jameson. Strong and brave, with his famous poker face-the poker face that would break if he could've seen me. He would be torn apart; I'm like a daughter to him.

I let my mind drift, though, with thoughts of Derek. Images of us together, always happy. Laughing, joking, and kissing in the sun. Holding me in his arms, telling me he loves me.

Some childhood memories too. Training together; getting stronger. Chasing animals. The first time we shifted forms, me into a wolf, and him into a strong, black bear.

But something broke inside of me as i thought of him finding me. He would be devastated. I imagined him retrieving my body, telling my mother and Jameson. Not knowing what to do next.

I hadn't cried at all, not even during the attack. But thinking of the people i love brought the tears on as if they were always there.

I don't know how long I laid there. It felt like hours, days even. But I knew it couldn't have been more than 30 minutes. Eventually I heard footsteps running towards me. My first thought was that it was my attacker, back to finish the job. It was Derek.

My vision was blurred and i knew my time was running out, fast. But i could still see his face as he approached my crumpled form. Emotions played like a movie across his face. Horror, worry, anger, agony. Everything I had anticipated, but that made it no easier to bear.

He dropped to his knees and lifted my face in his hands. He brushed the hair from my forehead and wiped blood from my eyes. The blood flow was gradually slowing, and I knew that should've worried me. That it meant i was losing too much. But for some reason, I didn't have the strength to care. I didn't feel attached to my body. Even the pain was fading. I groaned and he prodded my ribs, and i grimaced when he pressed his hoodie against the gash on my forehead.

'Shh. It's gonna be okay. You're going to be fine. Do you hear me Kiara?" he asked, tremors shaking his sweet voice.

But i was too far gone to even think about responding. The pain was almost all gone now and i felt like i was floating. I could feel tears falling on to my cheek, and i felt sorry for him. But I couldn't see him. I wished i could tell him i was at peace.

He took my arm to lift me up. Suddenly pain flared from my injured shoulder. The peace shattered, and I was back in my pain wracked body.

I cried out, even as he gently lifted me into his arms. The pain grew.

He ran with me then, always talking, reassuring me, telling me that I'd be alright. But the pain was too much. My eyelids felt heavy. I was slipping back down into unconsciousness. I closed my eyes once more.

I heard him call my name once, twice. And then i was gone.


	3. When your waiting on the edge

But I wasn't gone, not entirely. I could still dream.

My mother was sitting on a swing in our backyard. She looked at least 10 years younger and her eyes weren't ringed with "beer rash". She wore a flowered sundress and strappy sandals. She sipped lemonade and was laughing, looking happier than I had seen in a long time.

My father was in his crisp, white navy uniform and his duffel bag was packed, sitting patiently next to the back gate. He was in the middle of the porch dancing to some song on the radio.

No wait. I knew that song. It was "I'm a beleiver" by the Monkees. That was when i realized this wasn't just a dream. It was a memory. This actually happened. This was the last time I saw my father before he deployed one last time. Eleven years ago.

I reached out, to stop him or to warn him, tell him not to go. But as my hand touched his arm, I turned six again. Standing on his toes, dancing with my daddy. Laughing and having fun one last time.

But I knew it wouldn't last. As soon as the song ended, he would kiss my mother goodbye, give me a hug, and then he would drive away in his truck. My mother and I would stand in the driveway, waving long after he had driven out of sight.

But as the song came to an end, the scene changed. Two men in navy uniforms stood in the foyer holding their hats against their chest, head bowed. Mother was collapsed in a heap, sobbing. I knelt on the the stairs, watching from behind the railing. Knowing what had happened, even at the age of six, but hoping against hope that I was wrong.

That Daddy would come home. He didn't.


	4. of the unknown

I woke to meet the worried, anxious eyes of Derek, standing above me. Immediately, his face relaxed when he saw I was awake. The relief softened his features.

"Are you okay?" he asked, "Or is that a dumb question?" He tried for a smile, but couldn't quite make it.

I looked around. I was in my room, the one in Jameson's house. The drapes were drawn, but light seeped in through the edges. I guessed it must be midday.

"I'm okay," I replied, stretching.

A sharp, stabbing pain in my chest told me otherwise. I gasped and put a hand to my ribs. Doubt flickered beneath Derek's eyes.

"I'm fine," I repeated, more emphasis this time. "Just sore."

He still looked wary. I sat up slowly, to prove my point, biting my tongue to keep from crying out. Maybe I was more than a little sore.

"Careful," he cautioned. "You were hurt pretty badly."

"You're telling me," I muttered darkly.

A relieved grin spread across his face, truly genuine now. He looked awful. His blonde, wavy hair was disheveled as if he had been running his hands through it. There were dark circles under his eyes that contrasted with his naturally tan complexion. He was definitely in need of a hot meal and a long rest. Suddenly it dawned on me that I don't know how long it had been since he'd gotten one.

"How long have I been—" I couldn't go on.

He understood what I meant though. He cast his eyes down and furrowed his brow, as if the thought pained him.

"Four days,"

That surprised me. I hadn't thought it had been that long. Questions ran through my brain: What does my mother know? Where is Jameson? What happens now? None with simple answers.

I was aware that Derek was watching me, waiting for a reaction. I was numb. I moved over, carefully, giving his room to sit next to me.

He sat down and cradled my face in his hands, gingerly, not wanting to disturb the bandage on my forehead. I looked into his deep blue eyes, full of hurt and shame.

His lips met mine then. The kiss was full of compassion, relief, protectiveness. I had really scared him. I felt bad, knowing how terrified he must have been, how close he came to losing me.

I basked in the warmth of his embrace. It only lasted a minute though; the kiss ended when we heard footsteps in the hall. Jameson cracked the door and peered in.

He looked no better off than Derek. His shoulder length red hair hung in tangles and he looked like he was recovering from the flu. Paler skin than normal and baggy eyes from what I guessed was sleep deprivation.

He steel grey eyes lit up when they saw me.

"Are you alright?" he asked, weariness diluting the urgent tone in his voice.

I smiled in response, although I knew I must've looked like hell.

He pushed the door open and walked into the room. He was wearing stonewashed jeans and a vintage Beatles T-shirt; his usual wear. It look rumpled somehow, like he had slept with his clothes on.

I thought about it for a moment and realized he was probably wearing that the night I was attacked.

He walked up to the side of my bed and hesitated only a moment before settling down next to Derek. I thought that was a little weird; Jameson had known Derek for years, was his mentor as well as mine. He must have felt the atmosphere in the room change when he opened the door.

He handed me a glass of water from the bedside table. I drank in down greedily. It was stale and tasted like metal, but I was parched.

Their eyes didn't leave me, even as I sat the glass back down. I must have scared them pretty badly. Jameson had put his poker face back on, but I knew better. I could see the cracks.

"Are you alright?" he asked again, a different meaning this time. He meant: "Is the secret still safe?"

"Yes," I said. "But it doesn't matter Jameson," I looked right into his eyes then and took a deep breath. "It was a werewolf."

Derek sucked in a shocked breath and Jameson rubbed the three long scars trailing from the corner of his left eye to his mouth, and sighed; something he always did when in deep thought.

No one spoke for a long time, all of us lost in our own minds, contemplating what I had just said. It was Jameson who finally broke the silence.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. But I could see he didn't believe me, or at least didn't want to, afraid of what it might mean.

So I added, "I was there. He was huge, had weird yellow eyes and was beating me into the ground with a crowbar. Yeah, I think I'm sure." My words dripped with sarcasm and hung in the air like a heavy raincloud.

Derek winced and looked away, clenching his jaw. Jameson just sighed and looked at me through tired eyes, begging me to see how precarious this situation had become.

"I'm sorry," I said.

Jameson just sighed and shook his head.

"What I don't get is why you were attacked at all. What have the werewolves got against you? Against us? Shifters haven't gone after them in a long time. They have no reason to—" he looked lost.

He was quiet after that, deep in thought. Deliberating. I looked at Derek instead. He felt my eyes on him. Looking up, he smiled sadly. Taking his hand in mine, we sat there. Waiting.

Giving Jameson time to think.

**AUTHORS NOTE:**

**I know I left it at a cliffhanger there, but there will be updates soon. I promise. Scouts Honour! Anyway, I need some help coming up with names for some minor characters in this story. If you guys can come up with a name, or want me to use yours, just write the name in a review. I'll try to use as many as I can, but first come first serve! There are a lot of names I need, so everyone should get a chance. P.S—you might die in the story.**

**Thanks for reading, Please review!**


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